


Prequel to the Book of Heroes

by FarCryZine



Category: Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun | My Little Monster
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, F/M, Kissing, They have different names, you'll know who's who though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarCryZine/pseuds/FarCryZine
Summary: In a possible future, a plague sweeps the world, leaving a new way of life and a decreased populace. Heroes pop up here and there to save the innocent, to maintain order, to right wrongs. Some are simply normal people fighting for a better life (Shizu). Some are results of science experiments, large and powerfully smart men, ubermensch (Kenji). Some have inherited qualities of magic (Haru).... All are trying to work toward a similar end: get everyone through this time of darkness and back onto track. Three unlikely heroes must work together....if they can.





	1. Chapter 1

She was huddled in her favorite hiding spot, under the eaves of the roof. The neighboring building had three gables, one that overlapped her building, and that was where she crouched. It was raining, so she tucked in deep into the little triangle of shadowy space, watching the roads below, watching the rainwater drain off the gutters, hearing the sound of people moaning in sickness in the surrounding apartments. The occasional person cried out in the night. She looked over again at her old building, across from the roof where she was hiding. It wasn’t even her building anymore. She’d never go in there again. No one would, except maybe some scavengers. She had taken what she needed. Just some warm clothes, and a brown cloak that used to be her mom’s but was too big on her. It made a nice blanket, though.

She was alone now. She reminded herself: I am Shizu. I am fine. I have enough food. I won’t think about death. Or dwell on everyone who’s died. I will stay alive, and try to help others. The litany seemed to calm her.

The town had stopped smelling so much like rot now. People were dead, but there was a nice breeze from the mountains. She saw a faint light from Mr. Sono’s window across the street. He was old, but he made it past the months of disease, and the weeks of riot and looting and chaos. Some scavengers still came through, but they generally left him alone. He didn’t have anything to loot either. He played weak well. She learned a lot from watching him, sitting in the shadows under the roof overhang. Most of what she could do was watch, and wait.

Shizu stiffened. She heard fighting, screaming from the north side of the block. She grabbed her bridge, a wooden plank about six feet long which she placed over the gap between roofs. She ran across it to the next building, and brought it with her, just in case she wanted to go further. But there was no need. She lay the plank down quietly and crept to the edge; she peeked over, keeping her head in shadow. Her short brown hair fell into her face; she moved it, her eyes darting around.

Down in the street a burly man was on his knees holding his head. A woman stood off to the side, screaming “Stop!” Shizu couldn’t see that the man was doing anything. He actually looked like he was in a lot of pain. She recognized the man on his knees. He was a dick. He took advantage of people, promising them protection from scavengers for favors. She knew he was trouble and avoided him. When her parents died, he had come and tried to take her away with him. She had run away from him, and it was good if he thought she was gone or dead. But something was going on here. This woman was screaming in fear, just looking at him, and the man didn’t seem to be doing anything to her. He was clutching his head and groaning loudly.

She looked up and down the street and around the brick corner of the roof and then she realized the problem. There was a third guy down there, pointing at the kneeling man and screaming woman. Suddenly the burly man on his knees collapsed further, sprawling limp on the street. The woman took a huge breath and started crying, saying, “he wasn’t that bad. He protected me.”

“You don’t need that kind of protection,” the third guy said, lowering his arms. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

Shizu saw a pool of blood oozing out of the man on the ground. She didn’t see a gun in the guy’s hand. What happened? What did he do? What was he pointing at them? It just looked like his hand.

“How did you do that?...Are you a witch?” The woman asked. Her words echoed off the empty buildings. Shizu was so shocked she’d stopped breathing. The woman in the street had stopped crying and was just breathing heavily now, looking at the pointing guy. The streets were quiet, and the question repeated in Shizu’s head. She pulled back a bit, worried they’d hear her, see her. A witch? That does magic? The guy, who seemed about her age now that he wasn’t killing anyone, had not answered the woman. He stood quiet, wearing all black, didn’t look hurt or winded. His hair was lank and longish, dark also.

The woman continued, “I’ve heard of this guy…this witch, with powers. He can do anything, things like that.” She looked down at the dead man, edging away from the pool of blood. “Are you him? The witch?”

The guy seemed to be thinking. He turned to leave, then turned back to the woman. “Just get out of here. Find a safe place, and something to do…that’s good. Not that shit.” He walked away around the corner, and then impossibly jumped up two stories onto the opposite roof. Shizu gasped quietly, putting her hand over her mouth. How did he-? As she watched, he held the edge of the roof in a squat, and took off into the air with a push, flying away. She watched him travel through the air, saw him disappear near the forest at the top of the mountain.

  She sat back. What the hell?

 She watched the woman watch him fly away also. Then the woman stooped down to take something from the dead man’s pocket and run away.

 Shizu watched the spot where he’d flown, the woods, the mountain. A witch. As she took the plank and went back to her little safe place though, what she was really thinking about was his admonition: ‘do something that’s good’.

  And he was thinking: I am a witch? And there is another?

 

  

 Shizu watched Mr. Sono finishing his morning ritual. He had splashed his face with water, put on a sweater, washed what was in his sink, and was sitting down at the table to start his morning writing and reading. He usually wrote a bit in his journal, then read a few pages from a few books. She liked to watch this scene of normalcy, making sure he was okay, happy that someone could enjoy the good life.

 During the day there were more people walking on the streets. She knew some of them. They were mostly working together to try to rebuild their lives, continue their businesses. She saw the farmer, Bill, and two of his sons, which probably meant the other two were guarding the farm, preventing scavengers from getting at the crops. She saw the babysitter, Greta, an older lady who would watch your kid for a can of food while you were out working. She saw Rin and Jeff, carpenters whose families had both been lost to the flu. They would help you rebuild and would take money or whatever you were willing to barter. Rin loved chicken, and was trying to make a deal with the chicken lady.

 Most people had heard about the man in a pool of blood in the middle of the road. Probably because most deaths occurred inside, in private, it was bigger news. It made people feel better, Shizu thought, as she tried to gauge the mood of the streets. They saw a bad man dead, left out, like a sign. And they seemed to take it as a good omen. She wished she could take the credit for that one.

She thought back to the death she could take credit for. Tomas. He was another bad man who took advantage of people. One night he had come up to the roof, her roof. He was drunk. She’d seen him before, forcing his way into people’s homes, threatening them. She didn’t know what he was doing up on the roof. Maybe he felt drawn to the night sky. That night it was a strange sliver of a moon. He was stumbling and holding a bottle of whiskey. He’d probably stolen it from someone.  She watched him as he’d approached her gable.  He’d called out: ‘I know you’re here. You’re grown up now. I’ve seen you.’

 She’d had an uncontrollable tremble in her legs. He’d leaned seductively against the edge of the roof wall. ‘Come over here. Have a drink, you sneak.’

 She’d started walking to him, but knew surprise would be her best option…and before he said anything else. She’d approached him. He smiled and reached out to touch her. Then she’d pushed him off the roof.

 When people gathered around his body the next morning, Mr. Sono had said. ‘He was drunk as a skunk. Probably didn’t realize he was that close to the edge. Good riddance.’ The others seemed to silently agree, and Bill the farmer had offered to bury him. That was that. She’d gotten away with it.

She watched the streets for the rest of the morning, and spent the afternoon organizing her food stash in the roof beams, noting when she’d have to go out searching again.

 She sighed when she realized she needed to go up to the woods to look at her secret garden. The witch could be in the woods. Shizu sighed and sat down on her cloak, tucking it around her knees.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 As usual she waited until the sun began to hide behind the buildings, casting long shadows which she used to provide cover as she moved through town. Most people were getting hungry now and thinking about finding dinner. They would ignore her. She finally reached the suburban part and skimmed the yards sprinting into the forest and only stopping to catch her breath when she reached the little mountain stream.

 “Looking for me, little girl?”

 The voice was so close in the quiet woods she jumped and put her back against the nearest tree. Running the sound back in her head, she realized it came from the branches above her. She quickly backed away from the tree, looking up. It was the pointing guy in black from the other night. Though he was standing on a branch in a tree, he seemed pretty blasé leaning languidly against the trunk.

 “You!” She again noticed how young he was, and suddenly resented being called ‘little girl’. It made her angry. “You killed that man last night in the street.” He looked taken aback, but absorbed the information that she must’ve seen. With his hand held palm down below his waist, he jumped off the branch, floating measuredly to the ground as easily as a feather, instead of plummeting like anything else. She stood still despite wanting to back away even further. No one normal could do that. He stalked toward her, his lank brown hair falling over his forehead as he lowered his eyes at her. “And have you not also killed a man?”

 She was shocked he knew that, but would admit to nothing. She watched him approach, noting his tall wiry build, the shadows cast on his face by his longish hair and the trees, his dark, half-lidded eyes. “How did you kill him?” She bullied through, asking her question, ignoring his question, and her feelings as he approached.

“Well you’ve seen my powers.” His tone changed. “I’ve obviously been chosen to set things right. And I plan to.”

Her eyes widened and she clutched the brown cloak folds behind her. Each step brought him closer. His black shirt showed his square knobbly shoulders. He was a black shadow in the brown and green forest.

He smiled. She was cute too, and he was enjoying teasing her like this. Her eyes were big and hazel and scared, but her brow was furrowed, tough. She was small but she stood straight, her little hands gripped tight, her knuckles white. He wasn’t certain she had killed a man, but it was a good guess in this day and age. To survive, everyone probably had at some point. And now it was clear to him that he’d struck a chord.

“Don’t you want to set things right too? Little girl?” He was close to her now. She could feel his breath, smell something like burnt wood and smoke. She was not going to be bullied, but her hands were squeezed tight in readiness. “Hmm?”  

“Yes, but,” she began defiantly, glaring into his eyes and then had to think it through, dropping her gaze to the forest floor. She wanted to help people, put the world right, and rid it of the evil that had crept into humanity along with the death and disease. But somehow his way seemed different than hers. She looked up at him again and said “I may be little but we’re probably around the same age.” He dropped his smirk, and she changed tacks. “And I do want to set things right, but I think the way you’re doing it is crass…obvious.” She threw his vain word back at him.

He humphed and turned to survey the scene. “Is this where you were going or were you heading up to that little vegetable patch near the top?” He sneaked a look over his black-clad shoulder at her.

“That’s mine!” She was suddenly worried. That patch she’d raised counted as a good part of her food supply.

“Don’t worry, little girl, I didn’t disturb it.”

       “It’s Shizu. Not ‘little girl’. Why don’t you fly away now.” She was exasperated.

“Why would I use my powers so _crassly_ when I could be walking with such a cute little girl? Besides, I come here more than you. I deserve to be here. I use these woods for honing my powers.” He tossed his hair.

 

 

“Look at those idiots down there.” He chuckled and pointed down off the roof.

“They’re not idiots. They’re just trying to get their lives back. Trying to do their thing. It can be hard to survive in a group.” Shizu contradicted quietly. “Or without a group too, I guess…”

She had convinced the witch to spend some time trying it her way: observing people, seeing who had tendencies or patterns of hurting people, and then acting. They had spent the last few weeks together off and on. They’d watch the neighborhoods like vigilantes, judging from the rooftops.  

“So you knew the dead guy from the street?” He wanted her to talk more about having seen him at work. He was dying for praise, and to hear someone else describe his powers.

“Well, I think the dead guy’s name was Bill or something. Will maybe.” She wasn’t going to give him the vanity boost. “You killed him; you should know.”

“Did you know the man you killed?” He looked slyly at her through his hair.

She could tell he was watching her, but didn’t want to catch a look in his eyes. She kept still and quiet, looking down over the streets. They were in his neighborhood this night, watching the people on the street coming out of houses, making trades for dinner or whatever. 

“That girl was thankful that I killed him.” He continued, a passion elevating his words. “I have very...devoted fans of my justice. If you know what I mean.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his innuendo, and decided to change sides of the roof. She walked to the east side. He followed, working complex patterns with his index and middle fingers, stretching them to the limit. She knew this was part of his magic skill but didn’t understand it. She was still amazed at his floating/flying ability.

“So who’s the bad guy in this neighborhood?” she asked.

He chuckled arrogantly, saying “Well, I’ve pretty much taken care of all the major evils here. But sometimes a new guy just pops up in his place. Like a mole.”

She thought he was trying to get her to laugh. His moods were strange. Sometimes he was polite, almost courtly to her. But it seemed to be all on the surface. She’d asked him his name three times now. And finally on the last time he’d admitted that his name used to be Haru, but it didn’t fit him anymore, and that he was waiting to grow into a new one. In her head she called him John Doe, like the crime shows her mom used to watch. He was nice enough to her now, though they both kept a large distance between each other. Sometimes though, he was menacing, and she kept back, kept quiet, reverting to her old ways.

Last week, for instance: Something bad happened, and he went too far. Maybe they just shouldn’t work together. They did things differently. She didn’t like to be out in the open about her ‘justice’ and he kept dragging her into things.

Last week: they’d just bought a couple apples from the farmer on the corner and went down the alley to eat in peace. But down the alley, the farmer’s son, who was carrying a burlap sack of fruit, was surrounded by three men, coming up behind him from the other way. “Ex-cops. The mayor’s guys. Strongarm.” Was all he had said to her before tossing his apple to her and pushing her back around the corner. She caught it, saying “wait” but he was already walking further toward them, ducking behind an old dumpster, his black sweater adding to the shadows. She watched one of the ex-cops grab the sack from the farmer’s son. Another pushed the boy. To his credit, the boy was big and pushed him back. That’s where the magic began.

When the farmer’s son pushed the ex-cop, John Doe must’ve added some magic to that push, because the guy went flying against the wall, knocking his head back. He fell loosely to the ground. The two other strongarms looked at the kid who was looking just as bewildered at his own hands. “I didn’t mean it” the kid said before they jumped him. The farmer who’d sold them the apples went running past Shizu when he saw the men pummeling his son. She thought about reaching out to stop him, but she didn’t. Here the witch stood up, strode over to the fight and grabbed one strongarm’s head, avoiding the flying fists.  He said something strange like “coalfarg” and a black cloud surrounded his hands and the man’s head within. The ex-cop fell backwards, choking, the dense black cloud suffocating him. The last man backed away, spied the burlap sack and grabbed it, running away down the alley. John Doe tried one more thing, holding his hands out to the escaping man. But nothing happened. He shrugged. The farmer checked over his son, patting his head and murmuring something, then started to pursue the sack stealer, shouting after him. “Stop! Stop that man!”

The witch had walked back to her. “Let’s go. They’re fine.” She let herself be steered away.

But it wasn’t fine. His magic had killed two men, and had run out on the third. He wasn’t tempered; he didn’t have full control of his magic yet, and that scared her. The farmer’s son seemed ok. Shizu had watched over him secretly for the following days and saw him up and about on the third. But the men in the alley never got up. One had broken his head on the wall. The other had black streaks coming out of his nose and the corners of his mouth. She had dragged them over to lean next to the dumpster, out of sight. John Doe never showed up that night or the next. He’d known they were dead and didn’t care. She had tried to locate the ex-cop that got away. She would find him, and follow him, and make sure something happened to him and his boss. She felt confident she could handle at least that in her way.

But that would take time. And she didn’t want to bring it up to the witch again now. They’d been existing tentatively yet positively together since that incident.  

Most of the time John Doe was simply vain, arrogant and assuming people wanted his interference. She preferred her way of working from the shadows: keeping watch of one person, making absolutely sure he or she deserved the death she caused. She was careful that circumstances didn’t lead back to her, that it looked accidental, or natural. 

She brought her wandering mind back to the present.

“Do you enjoy spectacle?” She said out of her thoughts, wondering if that was the key to figuring him out.

“Are you calling my powers a spectacle?” He suddenly materialized two packets of peanuts and handed her one, tearing into the other.

She smiled. “Some of them are quite...a display.” She was enjoying this camaraderie.

He was thoughtful as he chewed. Finally he dumped the last crumbs into his mouth.

“The display helps people remember the lesson.” He brushed his hands off, his eyes dark and looking down. “Let’s go keep watch over a more lively area.” She wasn’t sure if that was ominous or not.

She insisted they stay to the shadows. He wanted to go straight down the main avenue. Finally they decided to just meet there. Tensions were building between them; she could feel herself getting snappy. He pointed to the center of the big town. “The mayor’s building is that one with the point. Let’s go check up on him.”

“Are you sure your powers are up to it?” She was worried about getting caught in the open with no protection. But that was apparently the wrong thing to say. He stopped smiling. He scoffed at her. She shrunk back and said “ok. See you there.” An empty pit resounded in her stomach. With a sneer he pushed off the roof and flew flagrantly through the night to a roof a few buildings away, then to another. She sighed, regretting saying anything, and climbed the fire escape down. She’d take the back roads.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Shizu had walked, crept and climbed, up and down from rooftops, and was breathing deeply and heavily now. The walk from the outskirts of town to the center square took her about an hour. And the way she walked, in the shadows, full of trepidation, heart beating loudly in her head, made her flushed and tense by the time she neared. The moon was full and low and the white steeple on the building was bright, as were the expansive stairs made of white granite leading up to the inset doors. A few solar streetlamps which dotted the town square threw a milky light over everything.

A small crowd had gathered around the government building and she could hear the witch’s strident voice, saying, “…tried to kill two farmers for a bag of apples!” She peeked around a few people and saw the ex-cop from the alley. He was standing on the steps of the building, near the entry door on the edge of the deep portico. John Doe was lower down, his arms out like a prosecutor, his slim body all in black, hair pushed back from his face, eyebrows intensely furrowed.

Shizu remained silent and listened to the whispered comments from the crowd.

“Who is he to judge?”

“At least he’s trying. My son works on a farm.”

“He looks like the criminal…all in black. Looks mean.”

“…Vigilante probably. Like Nero.”

“…think he killed that pimp in the street.”

“…scared her but he killed that guy…”

The witch continued, and Shizu pushed forward in the crowd. She didn’t want him to go too far again. He’d already killed two, but she did want people to be aware of the Mayor’s strongarm crew stealing food. She was torn.

“How do you know he’s guilty?” someone yelled.

“I was there! I stopped the strongarms from ganging up on the outnumbered boy! The farmer will prove me right!” the witch yelled into the crowd. The excop had shifted toward the door to the mayor’s offices and was pulling on the handles. The witch put his hands together, twisting his fingers back and forth, then made a pushing motion with one and the excop was flung by a force back against the door, his arms splayed above his head. He didn’t seem able to put them down. He made a manly growling sound and tried to move his arms and his body, but the force held him back.

“I was there and I vowed to be a thorn in their sides! To bring quick justice to them. The rest of their gang has suffered, and you are safe from them!” Some women in the crowd wailed and cooed over that. The witch turned back to the crowd and suddenly spotted Shizu in the crowd, pointing.

“Shizu! Is this not the last unpunished man from the alley? Who beat that boy to unconsciousness?” The people around her in the crowd suddenly gave her space, and a terrible fear of being in the open washed over her. She grabbed the folds of her cloak around her.

“Yes. It’s him.”

A bald man from the crowd came back near to her, taking her arm, saying, “You know for sure? You were there?”

She nodded.

“And who is this man?” He persisted. “How can we trust him? Who is he?”

“I….don’t know. I mean, I don’t know him very well…But he did stop them.” She wanted to be back in the shadows.

The bald man turned from her to the witch. “Who are you?! Tell us!”

Shizu wasn’t sure if his speech had triggered something, or if he had been ready, but he spoke out with his hands on his hips. “I am Blackthorn!” She felt proud of him, standing there like that, the people quietly taking it in now. What were they thinking? She wondered, looking at their faces.

There was a thud and rumbling, and the ground trembled a little. The crowd pushed and swayed. No one seemed to know where the sound had come from. Shizu looked to the witch to see if it was him. But he looked around also. From the other side of the square, someone or two people screamed. Then a path parted in the crowd and a man came running through.

He was very large, Shizu thought, probably almost seven feet tall, wide in the shoulders with extremely muscular arms and legs, he had slightly floppy light-colored hair like a farm boy and was wearing green pants and a whitish billowing shirt tucked in. He came running very fast, huge like a battering ram, leaping up the steps, four or six at a time, right toward the man plastered against the door. He laughed when he thought the man was blocking the door, and then he tried prying him aside. The man was still stuck with his arms up, an invisible force holding him there. The huge man looked around and saw the witch.

Shizu crept around the crowd closer to Blackthorn, happy in the back of her head that he had chosen a name, happy to be absorbed in the crowd. She thought it suited him well. She was tired of calling him John Doe, and had to make herself forget the name Haru, that he had whispered so full of anger, so that she would never accidentally call him that in her presence.

She heard the big man ask Blackthorn, “Are you holding him here? Could you move him? I have to get inside please.”

The witch complied, releasing any force with a complex finger motion and an arrogant wave of his hand. Shizu could see the magic holding the man there had already been wavering. But she wondered how the large man knew about his magic skills, how had he known the magic was coming from him. Blackthorn looked a little drained. But now he was swept with anger. “And who are you?” The witch’s slender black-clad form looked a little ironic questioning such an enormous body.

“I’m after the mayor.” The big blonde man said, then swung inside and was heard knocking things around, yelling for the mayor.

Shizu and the crowd came closer to Blackthorn. The excop at the door suddenly yelled and charged at the witch. Blackthorn put up a hand as the excop managed to land a blow on him. Shizu drew a thin blade and moved behind the strongarm excop, sliding along the wall into the shadows of the portico. If Blackthorn couldn’t handle him in two moves, she’d stick him from the shadows, maybe. There were so many people watching. But the witch had moved aside and held up a warding hand, and the excop’s swinging arm suddenly twisted back. He screamed in pain and went to his knees, holding his broken arm up. Blackthorn stood and placed his hands around the man’s head.

“No don’t!” Shizu hissed at him from behind. He hesitated, looking back into the shadows, noticing her eyes in the darkness.

“Hold it a minute, witch.” The large man in green suddenly came out of the door back onto the steps. “This is the man we want.” He thrust the mayor out onto the steps. Shizu slid her knife away just as he glanced back at her, then over to the witch, narrowing his eyes, seeing a connection between them. He grabbed the excop and tossed him over by the mayor as well, stepping out into the light toward the murmuring crowd. The excop wailed at his broken arm, cursing the witch.

“My name is Kenji.” The large man bellowed out to the crowd. “Your mayor has been very sneaky and unfair to you. I have traced a lot of crime back to him. And he’ll be removed.”

“What crime? There isn’t any law anymore!” Someone yelled.

“Stealing food from the common stores, demanding payments from businesses, threats, coercion! This could be a town where people work together to have a better existence. You don’t need someone in power holding you back! Have another election! Create a community! This man is keeping you in the dark ages, but I will try to watch out for everyone. There is still crime. You know what is wrong. Keep a law among yourselves and I won’t have to come back here!” Kenji looked around at everyone in the crowd, down at the mayor and his strongarm, and back at Blackthorn and Shizu, nodding to them slightly, but giving them a thorough once-over, suspiciously despite their cooperation.

Kenji hoisted up the mayor under one massive arm, and bent to gather up the excop under his other. Then with the criminals dangling like sacks of grain from his sides, he yelled, “Move aside!” and ran through the crowd, picking up an inhuman speed once he reached the cleared streets. He was out of sight in just a few seconds.

“God _damn_ that guy!” Blackthorn fumed, turning to glare at Shizu. She made a pointing gesture to suggest leaving. He ignored her, turning back to the crowd. Like a performer after a show, he stubbornly waited some time for adoring fans to approach him. He was pissed that Kenji had stolen his show.

The bald man that had questioned her came up with a woman and a boy. Blackthorn sighed that the woman was neither young nor that attractive. The bald man said looking at Shizu, “Is that your partner? Do you work together to find criminals?” The boy asked if he was a hero too, and where did he get his powers.

Shizu was so tired and looked up for a dark place high on the surrounding buildings to hide and rest. She wandered around the side of the building, leaving the witch to his fans.

 

She awoke when a beam of sunlight hit her eyelids. She quickly opened her eyes and sat up, pushing back against a wall. She was on a roof. But it was not her roof. She was tucked into a corner of an open, flat roof. She looked around. No one was there. She peeked over the side. She was on one of the neighboring government buildings. Off to the side was the steeple of the mayor’s offices they had raided last night. Blackthorn was nowhere to be seen. She sighed. She didn’t know why she thought he’d be there watching over her when she woke up. He had his own priorities, his own things to do. Well, so did she. As Shizu walked back to her neighborhood, she thought of her own priorities. She needed information. And she needed to get back to observing the people. She entered the outskirts of her area of town, and made a detour to the street where the farmers set up their carts.

She instantly recognized the farmer and son from the gruesome scene in the alley. And though they may have recognized her, the farmer did not show it. The boy, still showing signs of the beating he received from the mayor’s strongarms, looked up and down the street warily. His eyes never settled. He was on edge now. She, of course, had been hidden at the time of his beating, and didn’t want to bring anything up. But it was good to see they hadn’t been fazed. She bought an apple and a carrot, said ‘thank you’ very quietly, and kept walking toward her building. She tried to fix their faces and their expressions in her head. She put the carrot in her thigh pants pocket and ate the apple. Rounding the final corner, she saw Mr. Sono sitting on his porch. She looked around for other people on the block or in their windows, and seeing no one, darted up his stairs to sit in the shadow of his porch wall, just a few feet away from his knees. He smiled, glancing down, then continued to gaze out at the street. 

“Just as careful as ever,” he murmured.

“Not last night.” She thought of Blackthorn singling her out in the crowd, and the space opening up all around her…

Mr. Sono was sitting quietly, barely humming. She asked him “Have you heard about a witch? A man with powers?”

Mr. Sono reflected, looking out into the sunny street. The sun put a shine on his baldish head and on the handle of his cane. “I had heard some things. Remember the people who came from England and were stuck here? They said that there were two superheroes, or magicians, who were going around the E.U. arresting or killing people. They didn’t give the impression that they were witches, but I guess if you can be called a superhero, you can be called a witch.”

“And have you heard of this huge blonde guy Kenji who can run really fast and looks like Thor?”

Mr. Sono chuckled. “Well, what have you been doing? Running around with Thor and a witch?” He got a kick out of that.

Shizu looked shocked, and protested by squeezing back into the corner of the porch, peeking over the rail once to see if anyone could hear them.

“No! That guy? I’d never… Mr. High and Mighty Kenji, saving the city…” She grumbled, trailing off.

“Kenji has done some good deeds,” Mr. Sono finally said. “You could call it saving the city, though sometimes I don’t follow his logic. I suppose I’m just not privy to all his information. The people from north of town like him quite a lot. Seems to be a do-gooder, if it suits him.” She was silent, so Mr. Sono went on. “So is that your plan? Are you going to be a superhero now? With these new friends?”

She instantly reacted against the idea before thinking about it. “Friends! John Doe…Blackthorn. Whoever!” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I spent so much time with him and didn’t even know his name! No, he’s fine. He’s great... No! I hate him! And Kenji I don’t even know!” She thought back to the way Kenji had flung himself into the mayor’s office, and his determined grin. She blushed, her face hot. He had looked at her as she was sliding her knife away at the mayor’s. Did he think she was with Blackthorn? Did he know about her? What did he think?

Mr. Sono remained quiet after this outburst. He just sat, patting his legs absently, slightly humming, waiting for her to continue. He was familiar with the wild emotional outbursts of young people. She just needed a few quiet moments.

“There’s something I have been meaning to do for a while. I was just distracted. I’m going back to what I can do well. By myself.” Shizu said in her normal, low voice. Mr. Sono knew what that meant. He knew she was a tracker, a stalker, an assassin.

“Goodbye, Mr. Sono. Thanks for the talk.” She slunk off the porch, hugging the wall to the shadowy side, and was soon gone. Mr. Sono sighed. Young people.


	4. Chapter 4

She crouched against the wall in the twilight. The roof of the old liquor store was hardly walkable anymore. The entire building had been mostly burned during the looting years. She had saved it for a special purpose. Roderick was a man who had survived purely on his meanness. Shizu had known his sons—long gone now. They had escaped his oppression during the chaos of the previous years. He was a lazy man, but an enterprising one. Once his live-in slaves—his sons—had gone, he needed someone to make his living. It was hard to get a leg up in this time, and when people showed up in town and needed work, he was always the first one there, the first farm on the road. His farm bordered the west side of town, and drifters working for food would gladly accept his seemingly reasonable offer of work for food or trade. Only the locals knew, however, that his was not a good deal. He was a harsh task master, and never paid fair.

She had watched him many times. When his sons left, she knew it would only get worse. He had separated families, sending the father and mother to different work sites, preventing any communication. One or the other would end up dead, worked to death or would completely disappear. His method was to divide and conquer. But now he would disappear. She would crush him in this building, and rid the world of his greedy, self-serving destruction.

Shizu sighed, and leaned back against the cool wall of the roof. She was tired of both Blackthorn and Kenji already. Happy to get back to her old ways, and trying her best to ignore any pendulum swings of emotion, she closed her eyes to focus on her task at hand. She heard the sound of crumbing rock behind her and was scared. If the building was falling already, before Roderick was in it, her plan would be busted. She swept out of the eave, and came around face to face with Kenji.

“What are you doing here?” She was startled, but managed to keep an even voice.

“Mr. Sono told me you’d be here.” Kenji stood, his hand resting on a crumbling wall, bits of brick scattering to the rooftop under the weight of his hand. He hastily removed it.

 _Mr. Sono told him!..._ Red blood crept into her cheeks. Mr. High and Mighty Kenji. He’d intruded last time, when they were after the mayor’s strongarm. He’d swooped in and took their prisoner away. And now, again!

“You’re a little too big for something like this, aren’t you?” Shizu sneered.

“No crime is beneath my notice.” He puffed up and turned to gaze out over the rooftops of the town, looking very much like the cover of a romance novel.

“No, I mean, you may be too heavy for this roof. The building’s going to crumble any second. You should go.” She turned away to dismiss him. Sarcasm bled off her in waves.

He ignored it. “I assume you’re here for Roderick,” his low voice rumbled across the expanse between them.

“Did Mr. Sono tell you that too?” The wind fluttered her cloak and she moved to peer over the edge of the roof, keeping an eye out for anyone approaching.

“He’s on my list,” Kenji said flatly. He didn’t know why he just told her about his list. She didn’t have the power or responsibility to know. Who was she, anyway?

“Well, he’s been on _my_ list for a while now. And so has this place.” Shizu tiptoed around the roof, making sure certain stones and beams were in place, ready to be slid aside as soon as Roderick entered below. Kenji admired her little frame as she plucked about, watching the shadows cross and fall over her face, her short brown hair cupping her cheeks.

“So you work with the witch? With Blackthorn?” Kenji was curious as to how she could live so uncertainly, trusting a man like that. She seemed to be more a person that kept to herself. He didn’t understand the link to Blackthorn. He watched her response carefully.

“Work with him? No. This is my…list. I take care of things my own way. I don’t need him.” She was turning red again. Blackthorn was the first friend she’d had in years and it felt bad saying things like that about him. But was he really her friend? She flashed back to the way he’d smiled at her, and the furious scowls at things she’d said or done. She didn’t know what he felt about her. “I’d like you to go, and if you’re after Blackthorn, I don’t know where he is.” She said defiantly to Kenji. She looked up at him.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to this, but if you’re going to have your own list, just make sure you don’t end up on mine. If you think you’re being a hero—do it right.” He looked at her seriously, looking for something in her eyes. “Don’t cross the line. I could take you right now, just for knowing you’re going to kill this man.”

 “He’s killed families,” she protested. “Children, parents, the weak…And I never said I was going to kill him,” though she was. She knew better than to admit to murder.

He shook his head. She turned away, galled, appalled! Dealing with Blackthorn was better than being told she was doing it wrong by this self-centered meddler! High and Mighty Kenji indeed! She looked at her watch. Roderick would be here soon. It had to work out just right or it wouldn’t work at all.

She turned back, smiling. “Fine. Thanks. I’ll consider what you said.” She played meek. He could see she wanted him out of the way. So he just sighed and turned to gingerly descend the fire escape.

She expelled her breath and went back to her lookout. The next couple minutes she spent angrily recalling what they’d said to each other. And though he’d already affronted her with his arrogance and bossiness, she realized he’d be a powerful person to know, maybe more so than Blackthorn. How did he become so strong? Was he one of those supermen that were being experimented on before the disease hit? Did the experiments make him fatally attractive also, or was he like that before? She matched herself and Kenji together in her head, imagined kissing, working together, living together; then she matched herself with Blackthorn, comparing. All she had going for her was her small frame, her eyes, which seemed large and wide in her swirl of dark hair, and her ability to sit in small places and observe for long periods.

Neither Blackthorn nor Kenji cared about her. She was still on her own; nothing had changed. She was intrigued by both of them but would keep circumspect for now. They were both dangerous, and intriguing. Both could also be helpful. Shizu reinforced her inner tenets: stay alert and invisible, don’t trust anything, thoroughly know the details of the list, get food, survive. Finally she heard what she hoped was Roderick approaching. She prepared.

From three buildings away, Kenji spied her creeping over the rubble on the roof. He wasn’t about to let a regular person deal with Roderick. He’d wanted him out of the way for months now and wouldn’t trust that to just anyone. He watched as Roderick walked into the ground level car entrance. Shizu pulled out boards here and there on the roof, slid rocks aside and then scrambled down the interior stairs to where Roderick was waiting. Kenji had left her to do the job they’d both come there to do. He didn’t know what she’d do, though. He didn’t trust anyone’s ability other than his own.

Suddenly he heard Roderick shout and a low rumble of sliding concrete. Kenji stood up alert, ready to jump into action. His ears picked up Shizu yelling, “get back!” somewhere inside, and then Kenji was running toward the building, leaping off the roof and landing with a thud. He hurtled bushes as the building collapsed in a cloud in front of him, and got there just in time to see Shizu crawl out of the rubble. Her feet slid on the uneven concrete and she fell, catching herself on her palms, her cloak falling over her body like a shroud.

Then Kenji was there, scooping her up. She was dazed, so fragile, so light. He weighed her in his arms, slightly feeling the lay of her legs and arms, making sure nothing was broken. He looked at her dusty face. Her eyes, which were closed, squeezed tight in a wince of pain. He knelt down on one knee, ready to lay her on the ground. Kenji marveled at her thin neck, her wrists, her little ankle bones. She couldn’t have survived that collapse of concrete without injury. He looked back to her face. She was looking at him now, frowning, squinting. “I’m fine,” she managed. He paused, judging the truth in that, but he let her down to stand on her own, his large body standing up her little one like a doll.

“You’re hurt.” He stood, giving her distance, but feeling restless, not knowing what to do with his hands that still felt the ghost of her body in them. He wanted to brush the concrete dust off her delicate head. Her fingers looked so small as she massaged her wrist.

Shizu sat down on a slab of wall, groaning. “If you want Roderick so bad, he’s in there,” she glanced at him. “He’s fine…sort of.”

“What do you mean? What changed your mind?” He wondered about ‘sort of’.

“He could’ve been crushed.” She smiled ruefully. “I would’ve loved that. But he’s trapped instead. Like Montressor.” She laughed, coughed, saw him open his mouth and beat him to it. “I don’t know why Roderick is on your list, but this is what I know. If this man is a good person, he’ll be dug out.  You know who won’t get him out? His sons. They left as soon as they could get away. He was a terrible person, and I don’t know anyone who’ll miss him. Maybe you’ll save him for justice’s sake or whatever.” She saw him frown. “But I think we should let him sit hungry and cold in there for a night while you go to his farm. See if anyone there will come with you to save him. If even one person says yes, I’ll help you get him out. But I think you’ll see what I mean.”

Shizu stopped to have a coughing attack, and pulled out a flask, taking a pull of water. She cleared her throat and drank more looking back to make sure Roderick wasn’t sneaking out of the rubble.

She was cruel and heartless, Kenji thought, looking at her angry eyes.  But was it heartless if she could kill for Roderick’s sons? Or for the traveling families he’d destroyed? She didn’t seem quite worthy enough to be a true hero, in the science and logic-twisted corners of his mind.  She hadn’t measured up yet, though he did get her to trap instead of kill a man. He came out of his thoughts as Shizu shook the water flask at him. He smiled down at her. His blonde hair was almost white, and the dust in the air thickened reality, sparkling in the light. She thought his smile was as bright as the sun behind his head.

 


	5. Chapter 5

It’d been almost a week since she’d been out and about. Her injuries from the collapsing building kept her laid up in the little roof spot for longer than she’d liked. But the breeze was nice up at her little farm patch. Shizu was done weeding and picking for the day, and the afternoon sun was starting to lose its power. She carried a sack with some carrots and greens for herself, and in her hand had a little cluster of strawberries in a big leaf. As she tromped down the trail through the tree-shaded light, she hoped to run into Blackthorn. She hadn’t seen him for ages either.

Further down the mountain, Blackthorn sat under a tree on a log, testing his fingers. His right hand was still damaged from doing a crazy spell on some thugs two nights ago. One of them had grabbed his hand just as he’d finished casting, and twisted his fingers. It felt like two of them might be jammed. They were certainly swollen. He touched them, saying “shit” with an intake of air.

“There you are!”

He jumped, startled. He stood up to cover his embarrassment. Of course it was Shizu. And she was smiling, walking up to him. Everything was okay, then. He knew he could be difficult and moody. He’d hoped she was still friends with him. What did he think? Of course she was! How could she resist his charm? His man-of-the-world qualities? His glorious magic, so sexy and mysterious…

“Hello?” She put down a sack and waved in front of his face.

“Hey! Hi!” He was suddenly buoyant. He noticed her hair and her head radiating heat. She must’ve been up in the sun. She smelled warm and flowery. He missed her, for some reason.

“I got you these.” She held out the strawberries in a leaf and he automatically put up his right hand. She plopped them into his injured hand and he winced, making a very strange sound.

“What’s wrong?” She looked concerned. He didn’t want to see pity in her eyes.

He’d be nonchalant. “Oh, nothing.” He brushed his hair back with his other hand. “I…don’t like strawberries.” He cleared his throat, motioning her to take them back.

“Oh. Ok.” She watched him as she took them back, her apprehension like a child’s who’s stealing candy from a dish. His hair hung in front of his right eye, his shoulders drooped. He was still; but his expression flickered when she touched him. “Are you hurt?”

He gave up; she knew. He sighed theatrically and went back to the log, plopping down and using a flip of his neck to adjust his hair. “My hand is messed up.” She softened her guard and came to sit down by him. “Somebody fought back,” he smirked, “really messed it up…And I do like strawberries,” he smiled sideways at her.

“I thought so.”

They ate the berries in silence, looking out at the dappled light. The breeze stirred the trees.

“Sometimes I feel so dumb,” he spoke in the quiet. “I can’t believe I let someone get to my hand. It’s how I defend myself.” He tried to flex his fingers. “It’s my weapon.”

Shizu thought about a response. She wanted to touch him, soothe him. “It does look a little swollen,” she noted practically, too overwhelmed by his admittance of imperfection to actually touch his hand. She had to stay serious or she might slip into a dangerous affection. His confession of weakness gave her a strange floating feeling. He’d never said or done anything like that before. She should avoid looking at him now, her anxiety swelling.

“Well, I was outnumbered,” he glanced at her face, wanted to make her smile at him, “by three—huge—guys.” She snorted, the pressure relieved. “I wonder if the other witches have these problems too.”

“You should find them. Maybe after you heal.” They sat quietly for a few moments, Shizu trying to fix a perceived problem, Blackthorn regretting changing the mood. “Have you tried with your left hand?”

She had a fun afternoon watching him trying to do magic with his left hand, and the hilarious mistakes that happened.

 

Kenji walked through the farmers’ market, their carts and wagons transformed into appealing displays of the harvest. He usually liked to take this time to talk to some of them, help them lift a sack here, a crate there. But this morning he was walking in a daze. He could smell the air, slightly musty here in the town center, but nice morning air. He didn’t know where he was going, just walking.

Irrationally, Kenji hoped to see Shizu at the market, but he’d never seen her here before, so there was probably little chance of it. She should be healed by now. Maybe she was up on a roof right now watching him. He casually tilted his blocky blonde head up to scan the rooftops. Nothing. He smiled and shook his head at himself. As he strolled, some people smiled or waved at him, and he vaguely nodded back. He should go to see Mr. Sono again. Mr. Sono was the only connection he had to her, her answering service. She was so delicate, but so tough…sneaky, but vulnerable. She was nothing compared to some of the women that chased him for his looks and his power. But then again, she was certainly something.

Kenji’s eyes floated over the crowd in the way that allowed his brain to drift. But he knew if he saw anything suspicious, his mind would pull him out of his reverie. Suddenly it happened. His mind woke up and he was looking at the witch, Blackthorn.  His bliss melted away. But on the other hand, here was a source of information.

Blackthorn leaned on the corner of an alley wall, his black clothes blending with the darkness of an early morning shadow.  He too seemed to be scanning the crowd. Blackthorn noticed Kenji himself and made a move to walk away, but checked himself, deciding to stay. A feeling of liking and contempt mixed into his mind as often contrasting feelings do when your eyes first settle on a person.

 Kenji nearing him now with a purpose, tried to start on the right foot. “Blackthorn,” he said as a greeting, nodding and coming to join him. As he approached the wall, he chose a spot in the sun, perhaps consciously, opposing Blackthorn’s efforts to blend into the shadow. Kenji wanted his thoughts to linger on the preferences of dark and light, but instead he realized that this spot was good for watching the busy intersection. You could see people coming from every direction.

“Keeping an eye on everyone?” Kenji asked. Though they were officially talking now, they both kept their eyes on the crowd, not looking at each other.

“No problems yet,” Blackthorn replied evenly. He hoped Kenji took that as a personal threat, but he knew the big blonde man might not pick up on it.

Kenji decided to jump right into it as he couldn’t think about any other small talk to have with a witch.

“I see Shizu isn’t helping you today. Is she still recovering?” He was proud his low voice remained steady and cool.

“Helping me?” Blackthorn arched an eyebrow.

Kenji winced. He could tell Blackthorn didn’t like the idea of anyone helping him.

“If anything, I’d say I help her out. But she doesn’t really need my help either.” He sighed. Blackthorn could immediately see through Kenji, see how he’d tactfully tried to form that question, that without a doubt Kenji was interested in Shizu—his Shizu—and that he could rightfully refuse to share any information about her or them or what kind of vigilantism they did. But he could see also, the bad haircut flicking around Kenji’s ears, the squinting gaze he raked across the market, the tense line of his ridiculously heroic looking jaw, and for some odd reason, took pity on him.

“She’s fine. She’ll be fine.”

Kenji relaxed a tension he didn’t know he was holding on to. “Ahh.” He made a show of leaning back, taking another interested gaze up and down the streets at the farmers and buyers. “Not a lot of them know, do they? What we do, I mean.” He began to ramble. Blackthorn scrutinized him from the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t about to get soft about people with this government tool, but he wouldn’t stop him either. “But it’s not so bad; they’re not so evil. I like regular people. I like watching them.” Kenji’s eyes went far away. “My fellow man.”

Blackthorn rolled his eyes away in derision, saying nothing still, not taking the bait.

“Yes, I do like them.” Kenji added, as if Blackthorn had disagreed.  “They’re alright when you get to know them.”

“That’s just when I remember I don’t like them,” the dark boy uttered ruefully. “Still, go ahead and cherish that illusion, if it pleases you.”

Perhaps in conflict to what Blackthorn intended, Kenji did smile in a vague, pleased way, and continued to gaze out on the movement of the people through the market. The sun glinted off his eyes and his shining golden hair, off the buttons on his pants, and his large white teeth.

“So this is what you do then, Blackthorn?” The sun was making Kenji feel magnanimous.

Blackthorn was sure he was trying to be nice and conversational, but he just sounded so damn smug all the time. “Isn’t this what you do too?”

“Mostly,” Kenji was grudgingly enjoying the talk with this scumbag. Well, maybe he wasn’t a scumbag. He did try to protect and avenge that farmer’s boy. Though he may have done it to make a name for himself.

“I like to work at night.” Blackthorn began stretching his fingers. “More excitement.” He was pretty much healed now. He smiled a bit thinking of Shizu teasing him in the woods. But thanks to that, he could now cast two basic forms left handed. He could do a weak pulling spell. He turned back to the alley, away from Kenji’s gaze, stretched his thumb flat up along his stiff pointer finger, whispered _kochi_. A pile of leaves swirled and floated up, and began to dance in the wind, making their way to his palm.

“Hm?” Kenji glanced around.

“Ah, nothing.” Blackthorn was brushing a clump of leaves off his hands. “Just…leaves.” He hid his expression behind a veil of hair, smirking to himself that he could get away with magic under even Kenji’s nose. “Alright. I’m heading out. Have fun here.” The witch said flippantly, and walked back deeper into the alley, looked back once, squatted, and popped up to the roof, his clothes flapping briefly in the air.

Kenji had never seen him fly before. His hand went up involuntarily and he almost said “Wait,” the word dying on his lips, as he wondered what would happen if he asked Blackthorn to let him come see Shizu also. Let him run on the rooftops at night. Let him see another dark, smoldering look from her soft brown eyes. He remembered carrying her, so light, so little.


	6. Chapter 6

Shizu gauged herself to be about halfway through her proof period. A person had to prove themselves deserving her punishment, her correction. She always checked, rechecked, made absolutely sure, got plenty of proof. So far only a few people had made it through her proof period. Although there were strange times when some of those people had dependents. She remembered the woman in the street, the first time she saw the witch. That woman thought she needed a pimp, a master. And though she cried and asked Blackthorn to stop, he told the woman she didn’t need that. “Do something good, not this shit,” said John Doe—Blackthorn. Shizu didn’t know him then, but now she could imagine his eyes and his expression when he said that. It was easy to imagine his face, forbidding eyes under dark frowning brows, but could she know what feelings were behind it? Was he sad, mad, fed up, distant? It was hard to know sometimes. She cleared her mind of it. Did she really need to know? What mattered was the work they were doing to rebuild, to make things right this time. To stop the bad ideas. She would not think of her parents.

She needed to focus on this man now, Glenn Morgan, called G.M. on the streets, who had probably killed two people and probably planned on killing more than a few witnesses to those deaths, to get where he was now.

 

She was probably a little too sore to do anything drastic. But at least she could watch. Waiting for the reveal was a thing she could handle. As she sat squashed into her corner of observation, a little bit of her dream from the night before began to come back to her. A slow blush crept up her neck. In the scene of her dream she was laying in the woods in a leafy hollow, her cloak spread under her and Blackthorn curled around her like a cat, his heat blending into her drowsiness. She was easing her breathing back down to normal. She wanted to reach out to touch his hair, move it off his forehead. In the dream, she didn’t, but thought: why can’t I now, if we just did what’s even more than that…

The small flash, the image gone now, she tried to grab its misty sides and haul it back into her mind. But instead she was surrounded by dark brick and the smell of musty rotting wood and plaster. Nothing had happened today in her search for information on Glenn Morgan. There was plenty of time, however; no deadline… Well, the only deadline was more people’s lives to save. She wanted to get enough proof to stop him before that, but if she caught him in the act…well, at least there was that.

 

 

From her small hiding spot in the eaves of the building across from G.M.’s rooms, she heard a couple raised voices coming nearer. They were probably G.M.’s thugs. Through her binoculars she saw that nothing had changed in his office. He was still sitting at his table, reading something, his feet up. Maybe he was asleep? She had a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach when she thought he could be dead. What shook her out of her thoughts was a familiar voice joining the two yelling voices. She sighed, tucked the binoculars into her shirt for safety and wiggled out of the shadow, careful to check for any spying eyes first. She ducked behind the roof wall and made her way crouching along the perimeter. Now she could hear what they were yelling about but still couldn’t see them.

The day was cloudy but bright with a yellowish tint, making her squint. She padded around the wall further, her cloak dragging in the dirt and dust. The disembodied voices floated up. “She’s crazy.” “You can’t believe everything you hear.” “He was an old man.” “Crazy lady who stays locked in her room!” “Yeah, how could she know anything like that?” “Well she talked to me!” “She’s crazy!” “She described you! Said you killed him!” “He died of old age!” “Yeah, get outta here.” Oh god. She knew that voice, that tone. Shizu knew what would happen now. She ran to the fire escape and jumped down as fast as she could. “Goddamnit,” she muttered.

She didn’t want to call out. It was too late. There was a brawl beginning in the backstreet.

She peeked around the corner and saw Blackthorn. He was laughing, his mouth wide and smiling, as the bald thug flew back into a decrepit dumpster. Shizu watched from behind the wall, a little in shock at his pure joy with the situation. His legs were spread out and he leaned back casually, arms out and grinning. Why was she so drawn to him? He was in the midst of destroying people, ruining her plan, but she couldn’t help smiling to herself, seeing him so happy. With one thug down against the dumpster, the force of the magic knocking the wind out of him, Shizu wondered if the noise would bring Glenn Morgan out. The other came at him swinging and amazingly Blackthorn jumped onto his back as he passed, trying to put the sleeper hold on him. Shizu noticed he had a large neck, however. Then the first thug was up and back in the fray, swinging a bottle from the trash at his head. Luckily, or maybe it wasn’t luck, he missed Blackthorn and hit the fat necked guy. Blackthorn jumped back from him and laughed again, hands on his knees. Shizu tsk-ed at him, scoffing.

She whisper-shouted at him, “Hey! Let’s go!” He looked up, sun filtering through the laughing tears in his eyes.     

“Hey Shizu! Why didn’t you join in?” He laughed. “Wanna kick this guy?” He pointed at the two slumped on the ground.

She turned and walked away, knowing he’d follow her quick, determined walk. She led him left and right, through crowds and silence, winding through the streets to her neighborhood, while he led her through his version of the fight, describing each move. She encouraged it with short questions and sounds. She was deliberately trying to lose anyone tailing them. Finally on the roof of the old post office, she sat him down and gave him some dried apple chips from a pocket.

“Do you know who those guys were?”

“Yeah,” he chewed. “Killers. Extortionists.” Crumbs flew out of his mouth. “One’s name is Mac.”

“You realize they work for someone. A bigger killer.”

To his credit, he listened as she told him what she knew about Glenn Morgan. Though, he always got that credit. Despite being a self-centered show off, he always listened to her. They settled into the ivy that had grown up the wall of the post office for as long as she could remember. Lately it had grown up and over, and now covered half the roof and all the old mechanical protrusions, fans, compressors, and what not. Plants would rule this new world of theirs, and bugs, not people, tamed them.

“So I need to finish getting proof against Morgan,” Shizu concluded. “Then I’ll get him.”

His face was carefully blank now, looking away.

“Okay, _we_ can get him,” she amended, thinking he felt trodded on. He smiled lightly at her. But something was still wrong. “You can’t just go off half-cocked like that,” she said.

“It’s not half-cocked. I got a full description of that guy Mac from crazy Maryanne and she said he killed her dad and that she knows it for sure.”

“How do _you_ know for sure? What if she’s just using you to do her dirty work?”

“I’m fine with dirty work if it’s deserved!” He pounded his leg. “Why don’t you ever believe people?”

“Because, I don’t want to make mistakes!” Her face blazed red.

She sighed. He sighed. She’d never yelled this much until she’d met him. He had a way of riling her up. She was getting so emotional. Not good for her work.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go up to the plot.” She suggested in a quiet voice.

“Sure.” He stood. Then he said in a hard voice, “I won’t get in the way of your getting Morgan your own way. But I promised I’d get Mac at least. And I’m not going to go back on that to her.” Blackthorn walked to the ladder down, but when he got to the edge, decided to float down, his palm flat parallel to the ground, some magical force leveling him down slowly.

Shizu felt some pain at his words, but they were reasonable, and they spent the rest of the day peacefully.


	7. Chapter 7

Glenn Morgan’s lined face loomed over the two thugs in the street as they opened their eyes. They were wet and their faces were in pain. His expression showed wonder and slight amusement, but he was clearly disappointed.

“What the hell happened to you two?” He listened to their strange tale and smiled a bit, as he looked all around, up and down for anything, traces of some clue, some person that had been there.

He didn’t notice Kenji though, who was hiding in a broken out second floor window, able to hear perfectly the sound bouncing into the window. Just like Shizu, Kenji was wondering what to think of Blackthorn moving in on the way he himself handled justice. He’d been watching and following Shizu, and by default, Blackthorn as well.

Blackthorn was an interesting looking person, since he at first appeared young and sullen.  But in the next moment, a gleam of superiority and a quickness of action would transform him. He was one of those martyred sufferers who wants to be bleak and lazy all day but is called into some sort of work, action, or heavy lifting despite this, and turns out to be amazing in some way. He knew plenty of guys like that back in the army.

Kenji’s position in the Army, granted, was not of the sort typical of a grunt gone whole hog. He was introduced through the University, via a professor very much interested in his dissertation on the ubermench theories. And thus his work to create the perfect warrior had begun. He had joined the technical team, and after long, grueling weeks of think tank mayhem, the professor had asked him to join the testing trials.

 

 

Blackthorn and Shizu slammed out of the back door of the seedy bar and stepped briskly away into the shadows.

“You can’t just go blowing our cover like that when you lose it!” Shizu whisper-shouted at the dark haired loose cannon in front of her.

“I haven’t lost it. I know what I’m doing.” He stalked over to her. “I told you before. Mac is guilty. I can handle him.”

“You’re jeopardizing the bigger catch. If your powers fail again, GM will figure out it’s not just about Mac. Your antagonism is obvious. Stop being so selfish!”

“Just because no one’s caught you yet,” he said catching her wrists in his hands pointedly, “doesn’t mean you’re always right.” Her back went against the brick wall and the instinct in her immediately felt subdued, sensing a solid safety behind her body. It conflicted with the vision in front of her.

She looked up into Blackthorn’s face and saw anger and confusion flashing across his dark eyes. He was less than arm’s length away and his breath puffed hot on her cheeks in the cold night air. But she was still angry.

“There’s a lot at stake here,” she said evenly. He didn’t know if she was still talking about GM or about his getting too close to her. He didn’t care because inside he was in turmoil. He felt the bones in her tiny wrists, feeling alternatingly the heat from her and the chill of the bricks behind them.

“I made a promise, you know. But also, I won’t interfere with yours.” His voice was a soft but rough vibration in the air between them. He pulled her wrists up the wall from where they’d been shoved against her sides. When she leaned her chin up in a grimace of pain at the action, saying, “You—” he pressed his mouth to hers. She didn’t close her eyes. He looked searchingly into them under the veil of his hair, still kissing her. She looked back. In his eyes she saw curiosity, dominance, concern, and the familiar spark of challenge.

He released her mouth and her wrists soon after and leaned back. She stood there against the wall, breathing quickly, her body stiff with tension. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glistened in the darkness.

“So selfish,” she huffed out, her breath heavy, her cloak ruffling around her calves.

He let loose a smirk and lunged forward again, his mouth hungrily on her, his left arm snaking behind her lower back, pulling her in, his right hand cupping her neck and jaw. She leaned into him, her hands went up to grab his collar and for a split second, his stomach dropped out and he thought she was going to push him away. But as the seconds hotly passed, measured by their heavy breathing, he realized she was holding him there, pulling him down, simultaneously fighting him, asserting dominance, yet allowing his tongue into her mouth.

Each of them fought for control, remembering their previous argument. Their lips smashing into eachother, everything was a fight. Shizu was normally the argument winner, with her cold truths. But now Blackthorn’s physical dominance, his height, his strength, left her breathless, gasping, and lightheaded. She just might lose this time. She let herself feel the weightlessness of having her breath sucked out of her, her vision slowly tunneling into darkness, her mind fading.

He could feel her weakening in his arms, slowly giving up her strength and resistance. He released her, but grabbed out for her shoulders out of concern, steadying her against the wall, afraid she’d collapse. As she stared at him in shock, he said, “Wow. I’ve never seen you not in control like that.” He was smirking, his hair draped over one eye.

She looked away and harshly clicked her tongue. “Idiot.” She returned to her normal self quickly, or so she hoped he would think.  “You’re the one who’s out of control. You’re endangering our chance at a surprise attack on GM.”

“You like me out of control,” he smiled slyly, grin wide and crooked.

Her pause was too long. Her cheeks were red. She’d admit no such thing.

“You’re not afraid of me?” Blackthorn asked, hunched down, looking at her on her level.

She scoffed, putting on her usual face of distain. “Afraid of you? No.” She released a sarcastic breath. “I’ve seen way worse than you.” Her knees were trembling though.

He laughed, seemingly delighted at her response. He grabbed her arm, tugging. “Come on. Let’s keep watch from up there,” he pointed his chin at the roof opposite the bar.

She warmed inside at his willingness to do things the way she wanted. They climbed up to the roof via some old fire escapes in the alley across from their stakeout.

When they were settled and silent for a time, he began talking in a quiet voice, looking down at the bar door.

“I had a friend once, before all this. David. He had braces, blonde hair, glasses. He was impressed that I could do a few magic tricks. We were young.”

She looked over at him with just her eyes, her head still facing the street. They were in the shadow of night, but she could still see the expressions passing over his features: sadness, anger, nostalgia, regret.

“David was one of those kids that laughed a lot. He was nice. We would play in the woods and stuff, build things, you know, or just hang out in his room. He liked science, and we were always trying to do science experiments. And, well…one day we were doing, I don’t know what. We were yelling about something, some toy.” He sat silent for a while. Shizu knew what was coming and remained quiet. “And I used magic. On accident. It came out, I don’t know how, but it was strong.” He sighed, his hair blowing out from his face. “And after that, he was always afraid. We stopped playing together after school. But I don’t think he told anyone. I was alone after that. And then, you know, that was the end of _that_ world.”

She nodded, her knees hugged to her chest. He exhaled.

“But you’re not afraid!” He was bright and cheerful immediately. “And we’re friends!” He threw his arm around her shoulder and she stiffened suddenly.

“Ease up, Shizu. We’ll get these guys.” He jostled her, smiling out into the dark street.

Shizu’s mind was a whirl of thoughts and feelings. That wasn’t why she’d stiffened, idiot. Blackthorn had almost blown their cover in the bar. He’d just held her against a wall. They kissed! He confessed his childhood fears, said that they were friends—out loud! No one had been that emotional around her ever. She’d never been kissed like that either. Not…like that. She refused to think about the bad times just after all the chaos. She had a friend. Did friends kiss each other like that? With threats and arguments? And now he was all chummy with his arm around her, talking about revenge on Glenn Morgan and his gang. No one had touched her since—she blushed—since Kenji picked her up out of the rubble of her trap building.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> more chapters to come


End file.
